


Habit

by kakera



Category: DOUBLE DECKER! ダグ&キリル | Double Decker! Doug & Kirill (Anime)
Genre: Doug's thoughts, Food, Gen, Growing feelings, Kirill likes food, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pre-ship, developing feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:45:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakera/pseuds/kakera
Summary: Doug has got into the habit of feeding Kirill, and wonders at what it means.





	Habit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magiccatprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magiccatprincess/gifts).



> Spawned from a chat with Magiccatprincess, who pointed out how long Kirill must have gone without eating towards the last few episodes of s1.   
> I had a strong desire for Doug to feed Kirill, and so this happened.
> 
> First attempt at writing fic for this show, tried a different (and shorter!) style than usual too.

It began out of convenience. Kirill's stomach was grumbling, which meant he was distracted, and they were supposed to be working. Which would be a whole lot easier if that too-slender stomach wasn't growling, and that youthful face didn't look so miserable.

Easiest solution was to toss a can of coffee and a melon bread his way and get on with the job _without_ the distraction.

Anyway, it was only from time to time, and half of it just because of something Kirill had said once about partners and coffee and stuff Doug had pretended to pay no attention to.

Kirill worked better with a full stomach, which meant their job took less effort. It didn't mean anything when Doug handed him a snack. He just wanted to be finished at the end of the day.

 

Except it became a habit.

Kirill was one of those strikingly beautiful guys, slender and ethereal, something not quite of this world (which, as they found out, he wasn't). He was one of those guys who looked as if he'd never eaten enough growing up, and probably didn't eat enough now, either.

So what was a cup noodle every now and then, between colleagues?

It kept Kirill fed, and it kept at bay that little niggle in the corner of Doug's mind, that said Kirill needed more than this.

Whilst Kirill tucked into his noodles, Doug watched from a cautious distance and tapped the side of his head in thought. He could easily keep doing this. He could easily give Kirill more, too--and keep doing it.

The thought niggled deeper, its meaning evading him even as Kirill smiled and thanked him for the food.

 

Things didn't start to become clear until Kirill didn't want to eat. After losing Yuri, his expression was constantly troubled, and he showed no interest in snacks or coffee.

Grieving, Doug thought. They all were. Robot or not, Yuri had been part of the team, and Kirill blamed himself for their loss.

He hadn't seen Kirill eat a single bite ever since.

So when Kirill showed up at his apartment, Doug suggested they get takeout. Partners were meant to do things like that. They looked out for each other--and Kirill needed someone to look out for him.

Except instead of being enthused with the idea, Kirill had made excuses and raced off.

The niggle became a worry.

Kirill wasn't eating, and if Doug couldn't feed him, what else could he do?

It felt like a loss in itself, and the meaning continued to escape him.

 

Then Kirill was lured away by Cooper, into that damned underground military base, and for the tiniest of moments Doug was scared.

If he couldn't rescue Kirill, he'd never be able to feed him again, or see the bright smile of one who, at his simplest, really enjoyed eating.

As the team formed their plot and moved in on the base, Doug was filled with determination.

Kirill had to be rescued.

Failure was not an option.

He'd rescue Kirill, and take him back to his place, and cook him the biggest meal the contents of his fridge allowed. 

 

As it turned out, things didn't go to plan. Another moment of fear: this time, of being _too dead_ to feed Kirill.

But fate was weird, and they'd all survived. Even Yuri, and for once Doug wanted to bless Travis for...well, being himself. Kirill was so much happier for seeing her alive.

Kirill's stomach started to growl as soon as the helicopter neared the Seven-O headquarters. Doug smiled upon hearing it, something easing in his chest as he thought of the feast he was going to treat him to. Kirill had worked hard. He deserved it.

But whilst fate had smiled on them at the base, it turned its back on them at HQ.

They had paperwork.

Lots of it.

Not to mention a hospital check up that Travis _insisted_ they all went for (damn him!)

By the time Doug escaped the doctors - miraculously he had no broken bones, just bruising - it was late, and the rest of the team had gone home.

There went his dinner plans.

Sighing to himself, Doug wandered down to the vending machines in the waiting room to get a coffee. He was tired, and he ached all over, and just wanted to get home and raid the fridge and go to sleep.

Warm coffee can in his hands, he turned to leave and saw a familiar figure hunched up asleep in a waiting room chair.

Doug smiled, and bumped Kirill lightly on the head.

"Hmm?" Kirill's eyes drifted open, widening when Doug held out the coffee can.

"Dinner?" Doug asked.

Kirill's stomach answered for him, growling with a hunger that had not been sated for the past two days.

 

They didn't get dinner, in the end. Doug's fridge was more or less empty, and he didn't feel like cooking anyway. Kirill looked exhausted, and it was too late to order anything in. They ended up in Doug's apartment with a pile of snacks between them, bought from the nearest 24 hour convenience store. Neither had bothered to switch on the lights when they went in, so they sat there in the glow of the streetlights that shone through the window, eating silently.

Doug wanted to tell Kirill what a relief it was to see him eating again. But he was tired, and Kirill was tired, and it seemed like a weird thing to say out of the blue.

So he just reached for another curry pan, hand brushing against Kirill's as they both reached for the same one.

"Ah." Kirill withdrew his hand, teeth worrying his bottom lip and pale cheeks seeming to darken as he looked away.

Pulse running a little faster than normal, Doug held out the packet, and tried not to ignore his disappointment when their fingers didn't touch as Kirill took it from him.

"Thank you, Doug!"

Kirill smiled brightly and tore into the packet, and Doug allowed himself a private smile as he watched from the corner of his eye. Kirill was eating like a man starved. Which he probably was, considering he'd probably not eaten for the last couple of days.

Next time, he'd definitely order food in. Or maybe he'd take him to a restaurant. A nice one that didn't serve food out of tins. Kirill would like that, and partners had to look out for each other, and Kirill was too damn skinny.

He'd smile so beautifully at being treated to that, Doug just knew it.

As he entertained the thought of Kirill's smile (and tried to deny the warm, liquid sensation that took hold in his chest) Doug gazed out of the window.

It was such a relief to see Kirill eating again, that he couldn't begin to describe it. So he wouldn't. He'd just plan what he was going to feed Kirill next.

It wasn't until Kirill's slender, snoring form slumped against him that Doug surfaced from his thoughts, and that one, deep-rooted niggle in his mind became clear.

He wanted to keep on feeding Kirill, to see the way his blue eyes shone and his soft lips curved into a smile when confronted with food.

He wanted to keep on feeling the satisfaction at seeing him eat, experience that momentary breathlessness when those eyes rested upon him and those lips smiled and uttered a happy 'Thank you'.

He didn't want to stop.

Doug wrapped an arm around his slumbering partner, and did his best to focus on breakfast plans, rather than what this revelation meant.

 

Doug woke early the next morning, left Kirill sleeping on the couch, and dragged himself to the grocery store. Soon enough the apartment was filled with the smell of coffee, eggs and bacon, and Doug waited, tentative, for his partner's appearance.

The scent of food was enough to stir Kirill from his sleep, and when he padded into the kitchen and slid onto the stool at the counter, Doug couldn't help but smile.

He set a plate of food in front of his sleepy-eyed sidekick, and filled a mug with strong coffee.

Then he sat back and watched, full of warmth and satisfaction, as the sleepiness melted from Kirill's gaze and he got stuck in to his breakfast.

"This is great!" Kirill mumbled, in between mouthfuls. When he stopped to sip his coffee, he fixed Doug with a bright smile, and the rest of Doug's world abruptly fell away, leaving only Kirill and that smile. "Thank you, partner!"

Doug nodded, smiling slightly as the world began turning again. "Yeah," he said. "What are partners for?"

And as Kirill's smile brightened and he went back to eating, Doug realised he wanted things to be _just like this_ , every day.

He didn't just want to feed Kirill snacks from convenience stores and vending machines.

He wanted to rise every morning and cook a filling breakfast, and see Kirill smile when he woke to find it waiting for him. He wanted Kirill to smile upon finding _him_ waiting for him, too.

Which was natural, he supposed.

He cared about Kirill, and when you cared about someone, you looked out for them. It wasn't like being partners, where you _had_ to for the sake of getting the job done. It was about _wanting_ to.

Granted, he wouldn't tell Kirill any of this. Kirill had other things to think about, and he'd either not get it, or it would make things awkward at work.

Doug didn't mind. He didn't need words to tell Kirill that he cared about him.

He could just keep on telling him with food.

At peace with the thought, Doug turned back to the stove and started to cook some more bacon.

Kirill was still hungry, and Doug wanted to see that happy smile once again.


End file.
